IGNAZIO
“Have it monitored.”
“We’re on it, sir,” Came right back through the receiver.
“Keep me posted.” I ordered, listening to an acknowledgement before ending the call with one of my enforcers.
Then I discarded my phone to a spot on the center table where the sunlight now reflected off of the wooden surface.
I’d spent the entire night sat right here in this chair in my office.
And it was morning already.
Not enough time.
I leaned back in my chair, sighing deeply. Then came the knock on my office door.
A knock.
A muffled, feminine, “Mr. Nikandr, please don’t go inside–”
Followed by my door being shoved right open and the ‘Mr. Nikandr’ in question strolling into my space like he owned the place.
My secretary––now part time assistant––stood rotted to the spot right in fr
